


Three Dinners

by flippyspoon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy lives in Hopper's trailer, Fluff, M/M, Not even flangst just fluff really lol, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 22:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21088628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon
Summary: Three dinners at Billy's place. For Tracy!





	Three Dinners

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Три ужина](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758739) by [nadiasna7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadiasna7/pseuds/nadiasna7)

_Large Deluxe Pizza, Extra Pepperoni, No Olives_

Billy woke up on his couch. Or rather, he woke up on Hopper’s couch that now belonged to him. He rubbed his eyes and rolled off, half falling to the floor and knocking over an empty beer can before he got to his feet because the phone had rung.

“Goddamn,” Billy mumbled, scratching his bare chest. His scars got itchy when the weather was too dry. 

The phone was still ringing.

“Coming, coming, goddammit…” Billy yawned and stumbled over to the phone where it was attached to the wall in the tiny kitchen of Billy’s trailer (formerly Chief Jim Hopper’s trailer). He picked up the phone and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. It was his day off from working on cars at Cal’s Auto Body. 

He had intended to get a few things done on his day off before hanging out with Steve that night, but instead he’d fallen into a nap and sleep was often hard to come by even months after coming back. He took what he could get.

“Yello?” He mumbled into the phone.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice made him perk right up. Billy ran a hand through his tangled hair as if Steve could see him. “Were you asleep?”

“I’m awake now,” Billy said, just a little defensively. He was supposed to go to Steve’s and hang out in… He checked his watch. Just a couple hours. So why should Steve be calling now?

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” Steve said, and Billy tensed up. “My parents are having friends over last minute and they get so goddamn weird if I have somebody over at the same time-”

“Yeah, yeah I get it,” Billy said quickly. 

“Even though we wouldn’t even be bothering them anyway!” Steve finished.

“Yeah, yeah…”

Billy’s stomach sank down somewhere around his knees.

He and Steve were just friends, but the intensity with which he looked forward to seeing Steve was, frankly, mortifying, even if it wasn’t surprising.

“Well, but I was thinking,” Steve said, “I could come over there?”

Steve’s voice was soft like it got when he wasn’t sure about something. Billy swallowed. The soft voice did things to him.

Now he looked around his apartment, his eyebrows rising at the suggestion.

Steve had never seen the trailer. It was Max and Susan who had helped him move in. They had all fluttered around and Susan especially had seemed concerned with things like decor and cleanliness until Billy had batted her away. But now he wished he hadn’t. 

Steve wanted to come over?

This had never come up before, only because Steve had such a nice place that was great for hanging out. His house always had food and his TV room was comfy and Billy could knock out on the couch when he needed to. It also felt as cold and sterile as a goddamn museum except for Steve’s presence. It was a strange juxtaposition for Billy. Steve was anything but cold and sterile.

Now Billy looked around at the tiny, messy trailer which had once belonged to the chief of police and which he now called home. Hopper had returned from Russia...or was it that Upside Down place? Well, really it was both. Billy had heard the story three times and it always made his eyes glaze over if only because he didn’t like thinking about all that shit even if it had nothing to do with “the shadow.”

Steve Harrington could not come visit him in his _trailer_. Steve Harrington was...was Steve Harrington.

Sure, he worked at Family Video and he whined all the time about his parents nickel and diming him these days, but he still lived in the nicest house in Hawkins. He wasn’t used to…

_Trailer trash_, Billy thought. His own family had never had much money, but his father had still looked down on people who lived in trailers of any sort. It was a _thing_. As much as Billy was still learning to let go of the bullshit his father had drilled into him, it was difficult to get beyond the insecurities.

“We could uh…” Billy scratched his head. “Go somewhere though?”

The place was such a wreck.

“Oh...yeah. I mean...” Steve said, his voice sounding scratchy. “I just thought we could like chill out and watch TV? Have some beers and shoot the shit. It’s cool if...you don’t want company?” 

He sounded all sad about it and Billy rolled his eyes. _Goddammit, Harrington_.

“But I’ll probably just stay home if-”

“No!” Billy said. “I mean...it’s cool. Whatever. Come over then. Uh…” He grabbed his wallet off the kitchen counter and counted the crumpled bills inside. The pay over at Cal’s really wasn’t so bad. “I’ll order pizza.”

“Yeah?” Steve said. “Okay cool. I’ll bring the beer. See ya in twenty-”

“Wait!”

But Steve had already hung up.

“_Shit_,” Billy mumbled.

_Twenty minutes!_

Billy didn’t think about how a while back even if he’d had the emotional capacity to realize how he felt about Steve Harrington, he would never have gone to any _trouble_ for him. But now he started moving like the wind, scrambling around the little trailer, picking up empty beer cans, burger wrappers, empty cigarette packs… By the time he stopped moving, he had two bags full of trash. He took them out to the cans outside, dragging them all the way to the street where they could be emptied by the trash pick-up. 

He still had ten minutes. 

Back in the trailer, he blinked, and started moving again. There was a throw blanket that Joyce Byers had donated because Billy had not had any home _stuff_ outside of some things Susan had bought for him. Now he folded it neatly and laid it over the back of the shabby old couch. He straightened the little coffee table and did the dishes in his sink. He checked the bathroom and grimaced at the pile of dirty briefs on the floor, grabbing them, and throwing them in his overflowing hamper. He stuffed his laundry down and sat on the lid to get it closed.

The things he did for Steve goddamn Harrington.

When he had done as much as he could do and the place was even neater than the last time Susan had visited and swept through it with her usual sense of apologetic kindness following his father’s exodus, Billy stood back and frowned.

It just didn’t look nice enough. All he could think about was the Harrington’s immaculate beige carpeting and the goofy white statue of an elephant in the foyer and the pastel couch in the TV room that somehow remained spotless even though Steve really was an animal sometimes.

The knock on his rickety door made Billy jump a little. He was in the kitchen doorway and he glanced back at the little mirror magnet on the fridge. His hair touched his shoulders, brushed out into a big blonde bushel of fluff. He’d been working on that, teasing it out like all the big metalheads did nowadays. Working on his appearance made him feel better about things sometimes. It made him feel a little less...contaminated.

“Hey man,” Steve said, grinning when Billy opened the door. He was carrying a grocery bag.

Steve looked good. Billy thought Steve looked good all the time, but he’d taken extra time on his hair. It had a certain sculpted flair to it tonight. He was wearing a blue and white colorblock shirt and a bomber jacket. 

He smelled like Polo.

There was just something about him that seemed slightly more dressed up than necessary. Or maybe Billy wanted to think that. Only now did he realize he’d been so on edge about the trailer, he hadn’t changed his own clothes. He was still shirtless and in his jeans and he saw Steve’s eyes stray up and down even as he cleared his throat and held up a bag of groceries.

“Brought beer,” Steve mumbled, as Billy let him in.

“Right…”

Steve had seen his scars before, but he still didn’t like being so bare. He was more than a little self-conscious about them. 

Steve ambled into the small living room and stood awkwardly, gazing around with a little smile on his face as he held his grocery bag of beer.

“Hold on,” Billy said. “Let me put on a shirt.”

He wondered if it was weirder that he was uncomfortable_ not _wearing a shirt or that he’d cleaned his house (his _house_) for Steve Harrington.

Billy found a clean white undershirt and pulled it on, glancing in the mirror over his little vanity. His muscle tone was coming back, what with all the hours he pulled at Cal’s. He looked better in clothes than he had since he’d returned to Hawkins. Or maybe he just felt a little better about himself. 

Steve had set the beer on the counter in the kitchen and he was poking around the place when Billy walked in. He looked so curious, but he jumped a little when he saw Billy.

Steve pointed at a calendar on the wall. “_Miami Vice_, huh?”

“Shut up,” Billy said, but his lip quirked up. “Max thought she was being funny.”

“I like your place,” Steve said, heading back into the kitchen. 

Billy felt himself unaccountably pleased by that, but he only shrugged. “It’s mine anyway.” He took the twelve pack out of the bag and grabbed a can for himself and tossed one to Steve before shoving the rest in the fridge.”Large deluxe, extra pepperoni, no olives.”

“Yep.” Steve plopped down on the couch and Billy bit his lip, watching him look so at home there. He put his feet up on the table and rested his head on the back of the couch, reaching over to fidget with the fringe of Joyce’s throw blanket.

He liked that Steve was comfortable in his place, though it wasn’t even a very conscious thought. He just liked seeing Steve there, relaxing in his space. He ordered the pizza and finally sat down next to Steve at a respectable distance.

Billy grabbed his big, clunky remote and flipped on the TV and he heard Steve sigh next to him.   
“I dunno if there’s anything on,” Billy said, shrugging. He wanted to get a VCR, but he wasn’t up to that kind of cash yet. It was on his short list though.

If he had a VCR, he would have an excuse to go rent movies…

When he went to Steve’s house, Steve always had a movie at the ready and his picks weren’t too bad. A couple flicks had been God awful but even those had been fun to laugh at even if he’d grumbled and rolled his eyes at first.

“Oh, ya know, _The Jerk_ is on channel thirteen in a few minutes,” Steve said, checking his watch. He said it in a way that sounded just a little rehearsed to Billy’s ears. As if he’d planned it. “If you want.”

“Sure…”

Billy turned on channel thirteen, but there were still ten minutes before the movie started. 

He felt Steve jogging his knee next to him.

“How’ve you been?” Steve said. He was twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “I mean…”

“Alright.” Billy shrugged. “Got more hours at Cal’s. It’s not so bad.”  
“Oh, that’s good!”

“Yeah…”

“You sleeping alright?” Steve said, narrowing his eyes.

_No_.

Billy shrugged. “Sometimes beer knocks me out.”

“Hm.” Steve frowned at that. He looked bothered, but didn’t say anything and a minute later the pizza arrived. That gave them something to do and in a few minutes they were laughing at Steve Martin’s antics and chowing down, sipping beer.

But Steve still seemed _off_. He was tense. Billy wanted him to go back to looking relaxed and at home.

Maybe he hated the trailer after all.

_Trailer trash_…

At the commercial break, Billy took a breath, intending to confront the weird tension. “Harrington, what-”

“I lied,” Steve said suddenly. Billy hurt his neck, whipping his head around to look at him so fast.

“Huh?”

“I lied before,” Steve muttered, wringing his hands in his lap. “My parents weren’t having anyone over. I just...wanted to come here.”

He blinked at Billy with his big, brown eyes. 

Billy felt a stab of irritation for a moment. He’d _cleaned_. He’d cleaned just because Steve was coming over and now-

“Why?” Billy blurted.

Steve shrugged, the motion a little jerky and uncertain. “I just wanted to see your place. Moved in here a while back, but we always hang at my place. I dunno. I was curious.”

Billy couldn’t begin to imagine why Steve would be curious to see his place. He was pretty sure Steve had never been to Robin’s house. Robin’s parents were supposed to be pretty uptight. They always went to Steve’s too. 

Steve was chewing on his thumbnail and looking at Billy as if waiting for him to get angry.

Billy was mostly confused.

“Why do you care?” Billy said.

Steve hummed in a way that seemed to signify, “I don’t know.” He shrugged again.

“Okay, weirdo,” Billy said, chuckling a little.   
He watched the corner of Steve’s mouth turn up.

Very weird.

“I like your place,” Steve said. “Feels like you? I mean… I dunno. It’s cozy.”

Billy couldn’t imagine how a place that “felt like him” could also be cozy but he liked that Steve thought so if it meant that Steve wanted to come around.

Now Billy couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. “Okay, Harrington. Just eat your pizza, alright?” But for a while he couldn’t stop grinning as he sat there next to Steve and scarfed down his deluxe.

* * *

_ Chicken Alfredo a la Steve Harrington _

The knock was short and sharp and it made Billy jerk awake. 

He had been having brutal nightmares lately. Only at night. In the daytime, he could still nap without any problems. Not that he had much time to nap with his work hours at the garage. 

The knock came again and Billy staggered to his feet, rubbing his eyes. “Coming! Jesus Christ…”

He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair. He was wearing the same white tank he’d worn to work and it was smudged with grease. 

He’d intended to get cleaned up before Steve came over and instead he’d fallen asleep.

Great. He probably looked like shit.

Billy threw the door open and blinked at Steve, standing back to let him in. “Mm.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered as he looked at Billy. “Ah…” He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

Steve had been acting _weird_ lately.

Billy couldn’t put his finger on how exactly, but he didn’t like it.

They made their way to the little kitchen and Billy winced, rolling his neck. Between some long hours at the garage and awkwardly positioned naps on the couch, he was stiff and sore. His back was all knotted up and he groaned, reaching back to dig a knuckle into his back as he watched Steve unpack the groceries he’d bought with him.

Steve had decided to cook dinner tonight. Billy was highly suspicious. But if te food was inedible, he figured they could order pizza like they so often did. 

“Oh…” Steve was taking a bag of shredded cheese out of the Bradley’s Big Buy bag, but he was looking at the small expanse of counter under the phone where Billy kept his keys and wallet and a tray full of random shit like packs of matches and phone numbers on scraps of paper. But most notably on the counter there stood a small statue of a bear. 

The statue was an advertisement display for Grizzly Beer, some brand neither of them had heard of. Billy was pretty sure it was a Canadian brewery. The bear stood on its hind legs on top of a tree stump that bore the brewery’s logo, his paws outstretched. 

The thing was incredibly kitschy and a huge eyesore. 

Steve had bought it for Billy as a joke. 

“Hey, I never said welcome back to Hawkins,” he’d said, handing Billy the statue. They’d been walking around town doing nothing; just talking and smoking. Billy had realized since coming back that his favorite thing in the world to do was absolutely nothing as long as Steve Harrington was there. They’d loitered at somebody’s garage sale. Billy had quickly sussed out that they had nothing of value and had waited on the sidewalk, smoking while Steve took his sweet time.

Then Steve had given him that stupid statue…

“Holy shit,” Billy had said, chuckling and pretending his cheeks weren’t burning. “What the hell…”

“You don’t have to keep it,” Steve said, laughing. “I just got a kick out of it.”

Of course, Billy kept it. He put it on the counter under the phone because if he was on the phone he was often talking to Steve and he’d stand there, leaning and smoking and chatting with Steve for hours even when they’d just seen each other, tracing the pad of his finger along the wooden bear statue, smiling because Steve had given it to him.

It was the first thing Steve had ever given him other than food or a cigarette. 

Billy thought Steve would have noticed it before. He’d been over to his place since then, although a few times they’d both been pretty high or just hung out on the deck to look at the water and sit in the summer sun and drink beer and enjoy each other’s company.

Now Billy stared at the bear statue. Steve was looking at it almost as if he knew how important it was to Billy.

“Oh…” Billy shrugged. “Well, ya know. It’s got flair, right? Place could use some flair.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, ducking his head. His gave Billy a funny look and then spun on his heel. “Okay. So I’m making this chicken pasta thing. Chicken Alfredo. Don’t make fun. I’m good at making this. You’ll eat like a king.”

Billy grinned and hopped up to sit on the counter behind Steve and watch him cook, utterly entertained.

“Do your thing, pretty boy,” he said softly.

Steve took forever to cook because they kept talking and then he’d get distracted, making a point to Billy while haphazardly waving a knife, his eyes bright with good humor. The kitchen was small so that because Billy sat on the counter, Steve kept leaning against his knees. 

“Oh my God, this chicken is taking forever,” Steve said, sighing. He took a long sip of beer. 

Billy didn’t want the chicken to ever be ready. Steve was so close and this felt so good, just talking quietly in the close quarters of the kitchen. Billy parted his denim-clad knees and Steve stepped between them. Billy couldn’t tell if this was deliberate or not.

Steve trilled his lips, his gaze wandering about the kitchen, and he patted Billy’s knees, fidgeting. Billy swung his feet a little, pretending this was all as casual and easy for him as it was for Steve while inwardly his heart raced. 

“Can you make anything else?” Billy said, just to have something to say.

Steve’s hands rested on Billy’s thighs, squeezing there gently. Billy kept his gaze steady. He was getting a little hard, but he didn’t think it was noticeable. 

“Um…” Steve’s eyes flicked over him. “Meatballs and...chili. Grilled cheese.”

“Anybody can make grilled cheese,” Billy said. His voice came out huskier than he intended.

Steve squeezed his thighs a little harder. Did guys who were just friends do that? He didn’t want to know.

“Not the way I make it,” Steve said. 

Billy nodded and swung his feet and he chewed his lip as he hooked his feet around Steve, bringing him in a little closer yet. Steve chuckled, stumbling into him, his hands sliding up, his gaze fixed on Billy. His eyelids were heavy. 

Things like this had happened before and never gone further but now Steve was in kissing distance and he was smiling softly as he looked down at Billy and his fingers softly scratched Billy’s thighs through the thick denim. 

“Chicken’s gonna burn,” Billy muttered.

“It’s simmering.” He wouldn’t look away from Billy whose breath was short. “Why’d you keep the bear?”

“Because _you_ gave it to me, dumbass,” Billy said, just before Steve kissed him. 

_I fucked up_, Billy thought. 

It was a half incoherent thought because Steve’s warm, plush lips were pressed to his and he responded immediately, dizzy and feeling that he must still have been napping all this time. This had to be a dream.

He’d fucked up. He’d shown his hand. He must have. Steve wouldn’t kiss him unless he _knew_. 

Somehow his arms had ended up around Steve’s neck, his feet hooked around his waist. 

Steve moaned softly and Billy grunted as their kiss deepened. 

Billy trembled and couldn’t stop and it seemed to spur Steve on. His hand tangled in Billy’s mass of curls and when he tugged gently, Billy pulled him even closer. 

Steve’s lips were magic, Billy decided. They slid against his and seemed to know just how to move and how to be just soft enough while still demanding more and more. His tongue tasted Billy’s and Billy thought he might blackout, it was so pleasurable. 

He wondered if the girls of Hawkins appreciated what a good kisser Steve Harrington was. Steve Harrington should have been given a key to the city, in Billy’s opinion.

_Mine_, he thought wildly. _Mine now. All mine…_

“Oh Jesus,” Steve whispered, when he finally pulled away. He looked at Billy with dazed eyes and his hands seemed to be everywhere, tenderly rubbing at Billy’s throat and then sliding down Billy’s chest. He licked his lips and fingered the strap of Billy’s grease smudged tank top. “Been wanting to do that forever.”

Billy could only stare at him. A year before he might have had something snarky to say, but all he could manage now was, “Why didn’t you?”

Steve laughed. Steve was laughing in a gentle, sweet way and not like he was mocking Billy. His eyes were bright. He wasn’t being weird or running away. He hadn’t moved. Those wonderful hands moved up to cradle Billy’s face, the pads of his thumbs were just slightly calloused along Billy’s cheeks and he shivered at the sensation.

“Never fell for a guy before,” Steve whispered. “Freaked out a little.”

Steve had known Billy was gay. They’d had that conversation after enough booze. It hadn’t even been difficult. Apparently Steve’s buddy, Robin, was gay. Billy had almost felt like sending her a thank you bottle of whiskey for that.

Wait..._fell_?

Billy caught up with what Steve had said and he blinked at Steve who leaned forward and kissed his bottom lip. 

“Um…” Billy’s head was scrambled. He felt like the walls were moving around him, but not in a bad way. Nothing right now was bad. Steve was holding him and kissing him and saying he’d fallen for Billy. “Fell...you fell…?”

“I love you,” Steve murmured. “I’m in love with you.”

“Oh,” Billy breathed. He felt stupid suddenly, as if somebody had conked him over the head with a block of wood. “Yeah...m-me too.”

That seemed simpler than explaining that he’d lost his shit the very first time he’d ever seen Steve Harrington.

The chicken simmered for a long time.

* * *

_Homemade Burgers on the Grill and Rocky Road_

“Baby, it’s _freezing_,” Steve said on the phone.

Billy laughed, one hand resting atop the Grizzly Beer bear’s head as he stood one foot, leaning on the counter, and talking to Steve. “I thought you Indiana boys were so tough about weather?” Billy said. “C’mon. We’ll just grill. We can eat inside if you really want to. But it’s not_ that _cold yet.”

“Alright, alright-”

“I already got the burger stuff and everything,” Billy said. “And I got Rocky Road.”

“You’re such a good provider.” 

Billy could practically hear him smiling so impishly.

Billy snorted a laugh at that. “Shut up.”

An hour later, Billy was spruced up and dressed for his boyfriend. He wore a thermal under a black button-down so he could look good and be warm because loath as he was to admit it, it was a bit chilly out and besides that, he was more sensitive to stuff like cold weather since the Mind Flayer. The night felt special. Just the day before, Steve had declared it their three month anniversary. Billy had rolled his eyes, but then he’d seen how Steve was grinning at him, his eyes twinkling. Steve looked so _happy_ to be Billy’s boyfriend. They hadn’t done anything that day but Billy had gotten it into his head that Steve liked marking those kinds of occasions so he’d decided to fire up the grill and make burgers. 

It didn’t sound like much, but he had become talented with the barbecue over the summer. He was hoping it wouldn’t be too cold to eat outside one last time. He had two sturdy deck chairs now and they’d spent countless evenings since that first kiss, sitting out on the deck looking at the water, canoodling as music blared from his tape deck. 

He was still fussing with his already perfect hair when he heard Steve’s knock, and it didn’t matter that they’d been together three months. His heart was racing yet again.

“Hey, beautiful,” Steve said when Billy opened the door. The first time he’d greeted Billy that way, he’d almost snapped that he wasn’t a girl and then it had set in. 

He never did it in front of anyone else after all. If Steve Harrington wanted to say, “Hey, beautiful,” Billy figured he’d just have to withstand that and the way it made him feel all mushy and warm inside.

“Sweet talker,” Billy said, opening the door wide. Steve walked in and Billy tugged him forward by his denim jacket, kissing him with just enough tongue to be promising. 

Steve smiled into the kiss and it made Billy sigh just a little. 

Sometimes Billy thought he loved Steve so much, it hurt a little to look at him. But he delighted in even that ache.

“You look good,” Steve said firmly, when he finally pulled away. “You look real good.”

He _felt_ really good. He’d been sleeping better most nights although nothing was better than sleeping in Steve’s arms and he couldn’t always manage it. On top of that, Steve was great at massages so his back didn’t ache as often.

He still had nightmares sometimes when he slept alone and he could think of only one solution to that but it seemed impossible and he wasn’t about to bring it up.

It took a while to get the grill going because, as usual, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Steve kept groaning every time he took a bite of his burger and it was making Billy’s cock twitch.

“Can you like...not do that?” Billy said, but he was smiling as he asked. He’d already finished his own burger and now he was nibbling on chips, sipping Dr. Pepper.

“Mmm sorry,” Steve said, and swallowed. “It’s really good!”

“You drive me crazy, Steve,” Billy muttered. He’d said as much before. But he seldom looked so put out over it and now Steve raised his eyebrows. He looked far too pleased to have agitated Billy.

“Yeah?” 

“Obviously.”  
“Good,” Steve said, smirking.

“Son of a bitch…”

After they’d eaten their fill with some Rocky Road on top of that, they sat and talked and made out and finally, the moonlight shimmered on the lake as they stood there on the deck and Steve came up behind Billy and wrapped his arms around him and kissed his neck.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good tonight,” Steve whispered in Billy’s ear.

_That_ was nice to hear, Billy thought, slyly smiling as he tilted his head and luxuriated in Steve’s lips sliding along his throat. Lately, Billy had been the one doing a lot of the work in bed...not that he hadn’t absolutely volunteered for the job. In fact, it had made him feel a little more human (since the Mind Flayer’s possession, he did not always feel quite human) to ravish Steve Harrington and enjoy the very humanness of their two bodies entwined. It had made him feel like he possessed some special talent to make Steve helpless with pleasure, to hear him moan and whimper and watch him writhe and squirm as Billy tasted him and pushed him to the heights of bliss in the sheets. He was only too happy to do it and it made _him_ feel good.

But if Steve wanted to make it up to him...he supposed he could accept that too…

If he could just have Steve in his bed every night and if Steve could also do him a favor and never leave, then they’d really have something.  
But he didn’t want to think about that now. 

“How’s your back?” Steve murmured in Billy’s ear. They’d moved to the bedroom and Steve made Billy sit down on the bed in front of him, crawling behind him before moving Billy’s hair and kissing the back of his neck, rubbing his shoulders. 

“Been better lately,” Billy said.

He’d had sex with Steve a couple dozen times (twenty-three to be exact) and he wondered if the fluttery nervous feeling he got whenever Steve put his hands on him would ever go away. He hoped not. It felt _good_. It felt like love. 

“Yeah?” Steve said. He was using his throaty bedroom voice and Billy fought a smile. His back felt okay but Steve massaged him for a bit anyway, his capable hands that so fascinated Billy kneading his muscles. Finally Steve’s hands slid under Billy’s arms, sneaking up to the buttons of his shirt and undoing them as Steve nibbled on his ear. 

Billy’s heart felt like a jackhammer, pounding away at great speed in his chest. He remembered when he was possessed sometimes, how he could swear he couldn’t feel his heart beating anymore, but he had _lived_ so it must not have been true; just another nightmare part of becoming the flayed. He had thought he was already dead. 

Nothing made him feel more alive than Steve touching him like this. 

Steve always seemed to know that too.

“You feel so good, baby,” Steve whispered in his ear. “So _warm_…” Steve helped him off with both his shirts, tossing them on the floor before taking off his own and throwing it aside. They kicked off their shoes and then Steve was on him again, sitting behind him and mumbling as his hands slid up and down Billy’s back just to _feel_ him, his fingers tracing over the many thick scars left by the Mind Flayer. 

“I love the way you feel,” Steve was murmuring, his lips mouthing along Billy’s shoulder. “I love the way you smell…” He tongue kissed Billy’s spine and bit gently before kissing the spot again. “The way you taste…”

_Human,_ Billy thought somewhere underneath all the pings and little explosions of pleasure going off in his head and all over his body as Steve touched him. 

_I’m human...and he loves me…_

There were a lot of things Billy had gradually found he liked in life that had surprised him. He liked the satisfaction of fixing an engine all by himself. He liked learning things about how cars worked that he hadn’t known before. He even liked the gentle ache after a day at the garage, and how his muscles protested though he was more used to it now and his days moving engine blocks around and working on cars all day had brought back a lot of his muscle tone. He liked grilled meat, nearly any kind. He’d learned that over the summer, especially after a day’s work and especially with a cold beer. He liked taking Max on drives for no reason and with no particular place to go. He could make her laugh and she was funny, Max was, even when she was just complaining about her nerd friends. But she reminded him of when she was much younger when she rolled her eyes as he sang along to the radio and he reached over and messed up her flaming hair. He liked when Chief Hopper gave him a fond smile when they saw each other now and again. Hopper liked to give him advice, but he wasn’t a dick about it and they could share a smoke and not talk at all and it wasn’t weird.

He liked drinking his coffee on the deck in the morning as the sun rose over the water, turning it orange.

But nothing made him feel as alive as _this_…

“I love you so much,” Steve said, his breath short, his cock hard. Billy could feel it even through the jean. Steve had unbuttoned them, his fly unzipped, but he hadn’t taken his cock out yet. He held Billy tight from the back, pressing up against the small of his back, driving him crazy… Billy closed his eyes. He liked this; Steve behind him, whispering wonderful things, touching him and taking care of him…It was just what he would have asked for tonight. 

He could picture Steve clearly anyhow. His eyes would have that desperate look, as if he was overwhelmed by everything he wanted to do with Billy. He got that look when Billy was doing the work, pressing Steve to the bed before sucking him off. His lips would be impossibly swollen and bright pink.

His body...God, that body. Lean but toned, just a little pale, dotted with little moles, and a thatch of chest hair… Billy could feel it pressing on his back…

“Fuck,” Steve muttered, and sunk his teeth into Billy’s neck. “I want you so much… Wanted to um...take my time but…”

“Fuck, I don’t care,” Billy said. “Just…”

“Okay, okay,” Steve said. “On your side?”

“Yeah….”

Billy was happy to take Steve anyway he could get him, but his cheeks burned now at the giddiness in his chest as they kicked off their jeans and briefs and Steve spooned up behind Billy who reached to grab the lube from the nightstand.

He _loved_ this, Steve holding him from behind as he lay on his side. He could feel Steve’s bare cock pressing against his back now and he hissed, his own cock throbbing with need. He tossed Steve the lube and then reached down to give himself a couple strokes.

“You ready for me, baby?” Steve said. 

“Mmm...yeah…” The degree to which he was pretty much always ready for Steve’s cock was absurd, he thought.

It always felt like a surprise, even now when Billy would have thought he’d be so used to Steve. But that pleasing nearly aching fullness inside him as Steve slid home made Billy’s mouth drop open, and he couldn’t breathe as Steve murmured gibberish and held onto him, thrusting gently at first until Billy started pressing back against him, clutching the blankets with shaking hands.

“Good,” Steve whispered. “That’s so good… You’re so… God…” Steve’s nails dug into Billy’s thighs and he mouthed at his back. He reached over and stroked Billy who whimpered and bit his lip, embarrassed by it. “S’good,” Steve said. “Make noise for me, c’mon… Love to… hear you…”

Billy licked his lips and shut his eyes. His cheeks burned as he flexed his muscles and allowed himself to moan his pleasure as Steve jacked him off while he rocked into him.

Steve’s hot breath on the back of his neck…

He moved his hand from Billy’s cock and shifted them both a little, pausing before plunging inside Billy at just the right angle and-

“Oh _fuck_, Steve!”

Billy grunted and reached down to stroke himself furiously, coming as Steve pounded into him, hitting his prostate just right. His wrist shook, his whole body seemed to tremble. Steve was talking again, going on about how Billy was so beautiful, the love of his life...some of the words were slurred or confused. Billy didn’t hear all of it but he also heard every bit of it, tears sliding down his face as he came, shaking.

Steve was sweating, tensed, as he slid out of Billy, still hard. He clutched at Billy, his mouth open, his lips so full and red as he stared at Billy with blown pupils.

Billy was still coming down, cum warm and sticky on his stomach, but he rolled over to face Steve.

“Why didn’t you come?”

“Wanna...w-wanna see you,” Steve mumbled. Billy kissed him and he whined. “Wanted to take um...care of you… I know you...you like it that way sometimes…”

“How do you want it?” Billy whispered.

“Stay here with me,” Steve said, barely breathing, clutching him. Billy nodded and reached down to jerk Steve off and kissed him until Steve pulled away. He seemed to want to stare at Billy as he trembled through his orgasm that came not long after Billy began to touch him. “Yeah,” Steve said, his voice pitching up a little hysterically. “J-just like t-to see you so...look like a fucking angel…_my_ angel…”

_Complete bullshit_, Billy thought happily, but he smiled anyway (maybe just a little smugly) as Steve came in his hand. 

Steve held on to him, rubbing his arms as he caught his breath and muttered, “I wanna live here.”

Billy blinked and his heart felt like it might have leapt from his chest. But he swallowed, painfully, assuming Steve was just talking and didn’t necessarily mean it. 

“Billy?” Steve opened his eyes wide and stared at him. “Honestly, I was… Well, I was thinking what if I… I mean not if I’d be um...crowding you…” His voice broke all over the place. He coughed, his cheeks rosy, his mussed hair flopping over into his big eyes. “I was just thinking about it but…”

“You serious?” Billy said.

“Well, I…” Steve licked his lips. “I don’t know. Am I? Could I, you think?”

“You wanna move in this weekend?” Billy said. “I mean, I mean why not? I gotta clean up a little but uh… There’s room for like more drawers in here if you want. There’s actually a good amount of space. And you already have a toothbrush here anyway-”

Steve interrupted with a kiss and Billy breathed in until he broke away again and said, “Unless… Are you really serious serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered against his lips. 

“Good,” Billy whispered back. “Don’t leave. Never leave.”

Steve chuckled at that and this time it did truly hurt to look at him so Billy closed his eyes and tried to breathe easy, holding on. They got comfortable and Billy hugged Steve like a teddybear as they settled down to sleep.

He would sleep well tonight with Steve in his arms. And then Steve would always be sleeping here and he’d always sleep well.

Billy found himself smiling as he drifted off, thinking about Steve moving in and how in the morning they would drink coffee on the deck and watch the sun turn the once dark water orange.


End file.
